


Always

by containedmultitudes



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Community: kink_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-05
Updated: 2010-07-05
Packaged: 2018-01-21 20:09:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1562471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/containedmultitudes/pseuds/containedmultitudes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus cannot forgive himself for loving Lily. Harry can only forgive.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Always

Title: Always  
Author: [](http://sapphiretragedy.livejournal.com/profile)**sapphiretragedy/diggingupophelia/containedmultitudes**  
Prompt: kink_bingo: penance/punishment  
Fandom: Harry Potter  
Pairing: Severus/Harry  
Summary: Severus cannot forgive himself for loving Lily. Harry can only forgive.  
Length: One shot; approx. 3000K

 

 

~*~

  
On the anniversary of her death, Severus Snape makes his way to Godric’s Hollow. He finds it fitting that he should come to pay the price in his hoarse screams and salty tears at the site of her death. It is the only way he can live. It is the only way he does not feel guilty remembering his Lily.

Severus knows not to knock on the door. He is just to go in, disrobe and wait for Potter to come to him, to offer him the absolution he needs to make it through another 364 days.

The house is not the same house to which he led the Dark Lord all those years ago. This is Potter’s house, built on the ruins of the life he could have had if Severus had not been the one to confide what he saw in the wrong man, if Voldemort was ever a man. Severus doubted as much.

“You’re late,” Potter said, the soft whisper breaking Severus’ solemn remembrance of red hair and green eyes. “I thought you weren’t coming.”

Severus felt himself flush with embarrassment. He had almost decided to stay home and do this to himself, as he did in the days before Potter took pity on him, with the sharp blade of a knife on the insides of his thighs. But, it was useless because he could not forgive himself. But, Potter could, and would, forgive him again – and mean it.

“Where else would I be this day? I stopped to pay my respects,” he lied. He would go to the gravesite afterward when his tears were fresh and his flesh raw with the weight of his newest absolution.

Potter sat down on his large sofa. “No you weren’t,” he said, having the audacity to grin. “I was just there. Waiting for you.” He sighed. “It doesn’t matter. I really thought you had finally found a way to understand that you’ve been forgiven for a long time now.”

Severus snorts. Potter tells him the same thing every year. And every year, he submits himself to Potter for his punishment, his penance. For him, they are one in the same, and he needs the release to keep feeling.

“I wish you and your stupid friends had left me to die,” he says. His hands move reflexively to the angry scars that healed in knots at his throat. He didn’t mean it though. If he had died, he would have had to face Lily without being absolved, without paying the price and she deserved better. So much better.

“She wouldn’t have wanted that,” Potter says.

Severus looks up at him, locking his gaze with Potters, and invading his thoughts. He knows he shouldn’t do that, not now, but he needs to feel that it’s true. And, much to his dismay, it is. But, this isn’t really about Lily. This is about him, and what he needs to get by because for as long as he could remember, he never had the power to forgive himself his trespasses; one needs to be his own man to do that. After a lifetime of Voldemort’s Death Eater, then as Dumbledore’s man, Severus had no idea who he was or what it meant to control one’s own destiny. So now, he freely submitted his absolution to Harry Potter – because who else would have him? “But I _need_ it,” he said. “Please.”

Potter nodded. He would never make Severus beg – not after that first time. Severus shuddered at the memory. He had been visiting Lily, as was his custom, and Potter showed up. Severus had been ready to defend his right to stay and grieve, but the boy simply wrapped his arm over Severus’ shoulders while they cried together for the loss of lives they could never have had.

Then Severus had asked, “Forgive me.”

Potter had stared at him like he was stupid. “I already have.”

And then Severus had kneeled at Potter’s feet and asked that he punish him for his crimes, that he make him feel the pain and shame and degradation that Lily must have felt when she died.

Potter had refused, of course. But, Severus had been persistent, stripping himself off in the middle of the crisp October night and offering himself to Potter to do with as he pleased so long as he made the hurt stop and made him feel as though some of his debt to Lily had been paid.

Now, thankfully, there was no need for it.

“All right,” Potter said. He tapped the empty spot on the sofa next to him. “But, I hope this is the last time.”

Severus pulled himself up from the ground and lay across Potter’s lap. He rested his chest and legs in the space around Potter.

Potter put a hand at the small of Severus’ back. “Why are you here, Severus?” he asked. Severus jumped when Potter began to stroke his back in small circles. He hated that. It made him feel cared for, and no one should care for a person who committed the crimes he had. Especially, Severus thought, the man who was most wronged by his youthful stupidity.

“Because I killed your mother and I need to be punished for it. I need to offer up my suffering as penance for what I have done.” The words rolled off of his tongue, but they were difficult to admit. He forced himself to say them for days before he came. He wouldn’t feel right if he had to struggle to get them out in front of Potter.

“And?” Potter asked. He tapped his hand lightly on Severus’ back before resuming the infuriating stroking.

Severus sighed. “And because I loved her and … please don’t make me say it.”

“And?” Potter pressed. “These are your rules, Severus. Not mine. You have to say it.”

Severus took a deep breath. “I don’t understand why you listen to me now. You never did before.”

He felt Potter’s body lift up in that insouciant shrug that the boy had perfected in his youth. “Well, I guess I’ve learned. I want to hear it, Severus. Every syllable. If you don’t, you’ll only make things worse for yourself in the long run.” Potter emphasized his threat with a sharp slap across both of Severus’ buttocks. It made him lurch forward and make a noise in his throat, more from surprise than actual discomfort. It was a simple warning of what was to come, not a punishment for what he could not say.

“Because I loved her and didn’t have the courage to tell her or show her the way she deserved,” he bit out. “Because I’ll always love her and care for her and she will never know because I’m the Death Eater who sold her soul to the Dark Lord.”

“Voldemort,” Potter said, emphasizing each syllable with a sharp slap to Severus’ thighs.

Severus did not cry out, nor did he move. When Potter was done, he simply repeated, “Because I am the Death Eater who sold her soul to Voldemort.” He paused. “Voldemort.” The word felt so strange on his tongue. He was afraid that if he said it, the ghost of his worst master would appear and torment him further. He _hated_ that Potter made him say it, but he claimed the only way Severus could own himself was to stop fearing the name.

Ten years later, and Severus still feared it. And still couldn’t forgive himself enough to truly live the second life he had been given.

“Very good, Severus,” Potter said. “But, no matter how good you were at owning the name, it’s time to pay for your crimes. It’s been thirty years since she’s died, Severus. That’s thirty birthdays she’s never had, children that were never born, a son who missed out on thirty years of henpecking from his mother, grandchildren who never knew what a great witch Lily Evans was. And all because you heard something you shouldn’t have and then repeated it.”

“I am sorry,” Severus said. He knew it would do nothing to change the fact that he was draped over Potter’s lap, or that Potter would beat him - _spank_ him like a small errant child. But, Potter would never do worse. But, the intimacy of the punishment was too kind, more than Severus felt he deserved. He wished for a paddle, or belt or anything other than Potter’s calloused hands.

“I know. But, I’m not the one who needs to forgive you. You need to forgive you, just like the rest of the world has forgiven you, Severus.”

“Your kindness is cruel,” Severus bit out.

Potter sighed. “Thirty years worth of sorrow and regret to offer up. After each time I stop, tell me the one thing you forgive yourself for this year. After you tell me, you can’t hate yourself for those things anymore. Understand?”

“Yes, Potter.”

Potter applied more pressure to the small of Severus’ back to hold him in place. Severus braced himself for the punishment. Potter’s pattern was always the same. One swat equaled one sharp smack to each buttock, or thigh. After each one, he was meant to recite something for which he truly forgave himself. He spent days memorizing the list in order of importance, with the first being the most trivial and the last being the most important – and always the same reason.

Severus counted four sets of loud smacks before he began to feel the heat rise up on his backside. He started to squirm, but Potter held him firm. Severus lost count of the smacks, judging them only by the way Potter smacked, and grabbed, his heated flesh until he felt like he was on fire. When he finally made a noise, a cross between a moan and a whimper, Potter stopped. “Tell me one thing, Severus,” he said, rubbing at the heat, distributing it across his buttocks in a hard even motion that made his skin burn and tingle.

“For calling her a Mudblood,” Severus said.

“You said that last year,” Potter reminded.

“I did it more than once,” Severus revealed.

Potter did not answer. He simply raised his hand and brought it down on the back of Severus’ thighs, concentrating his blows to the place where his thighs and the curve of his arse met. There was one sharp smack after another, heat building up and radiating upward to the expanse of flesh Potter had hit in the first round. The only sounds that filled the air were the rhythmic slaps of Potter’s hand against his fiery skin and his strangled cries. Severus felt tears prickle at his eyes and concentrated his efforts at holding them back until he earned the right to cry. He screamed out, “So sorry!” as Potter delivered a particularly hard set of blows to his bottom. Then Potter stopped.

Potter took a few deep breaths. “Tell me one more thing.”

Severus blinked back tears and sniffed back the snot that was dripping form his nostrils. He felt that his cheeks were wet and realized he hadn’t been able to stop himself from crying. “For not giving her the chance to hold her grandchildren in her arms.”

Potter did not resume spanking him. Instead, Potter grabbed handfuls of his swollen, sore flesh in his hands, kneading it and making the pain spark to life again. “Forgive yourself for telling her secret,” Potter said. He squeezed at Severus’ flesh harder, making Severus squirm. But, Severus couldn’t open his mouth to form the words. Potter delivered a sharp smack to the center of his buttocks, then grabbed another handful of hot, abused skin. “Forgive yourself, Severus.”

Potter kept repeating, “Forgive yourself,” emphasizing each syllable with hard smacks that made Severus feel as though his skin was lifting off of his body with Potter’s hand. It took twenty swats for Severus to be able to get the words out between wet sobs.

“I forgive myself,” he said, sniffing back snot and blinking back tears. “I forgive myself for telling her secret.”

Potter rewarded him by caressing the swollen flesh of his buttocks for a moment. But it was short lived. Severus would not be able to get up until he had forgiven himself for things Potter thought he should. Potter started to count backward from forty – each number earning Severus a swat on each buttock. The smacks gradually increased in intensity as Potter neared one. When he was done, Potter squeezed at the flesh again. Severus, who had been crying out and squirming throughout the ordeal groaned as Potter not only squeezed and pinched, but twisted his hot flesh in his calloused hands. “It hurts, Potter. It hurts. Please.”

“When you forgive yourself for loving her in the first place, I’ll stop.”

Severus remained silent, save for the sobs he allowed himself to indulge in. Potter responded by delivering a flurry of hard smacks to Severus’ backside and then pinching and twisting Severus’ hot flesh between his thumb and forefinger. “Forgive yourself for loving her,” he commanded, his voice hard and losing patience. This was the one thing he said each year, and Potter always had to force him. And that is why, year after year, Severus came back – he knew he had no forgiven himself if he could not say the words on his own.

“I can’t,” Severus, said, his voice gravely with the strain of crying.

Potter sighed. He started to pinch Severus’ backside with more vigor, focusing on the backs of the thighs and where his thighs met his arse. “You have to know that your loving her didn’t kill her. But, it’s killing you. You need to forgive yourself and Let,” Potter smacked him with enough force to push him forward so he almost hit his head on the arm of the sofa. “Go,” and then Potter delivered a blow of equal intensity. “Say it,” Potter demanded with a pinch.

Severus could not think. All he could say was, “Fuck, that hurts.”

“It’s supposed to hurt. It’s supposed to make you feel those things you refuse to feel unless I make you. And, I don’t want to make you. So, forgive,” he hit Severus hard again. Severus squirmed trying to get away, and yelled, “Fuck!” at the top of his voice. “Yourself,” another smack.

Severus tried to move his legs to pull himself up, but realized he had been restrained all the while. Potter smacked him again, less hard than before, but it hurt more than any other smack he’d gotten thus far. “Say it,” Potter demanded.

“You’re losing patience,” Severus said, deflecting. He practiced the words in his head as Potter pinched his flesh again. “Stop. It hurts. I’m sorry,” Severus cried out.

“Those,” Potter said, with a smack. “Are,” another smack. “Not,” and another, this one making him nearly twist sideways from the pain. “The,” another as Potter pulled him back flat on his lap. “Words,” two more in quick succession on the backs of his thighs, which made him his and shout at the same time. “I,” a pinch over the same spot he had just smacked. “Want,” another pinch directly over that one, making Severus groan and writhe. “To,” a sharp smack that made Severus yell out. “Hear,” a big, twisting pinch finished the sentence as Severus yelled, “I forgive.”

“Forgive what,” Potter asked as he gently rubbed Severus’ abused flesh.

“Forgive myself,” Severus said between ragged breaths. “Forgive myself for loving her.”

Potter’s whole body relaxed. “Good. Now get up.”

Severus took a moment to pull himself up onto his shaking legs. His whole being was centered on the heat growing in his arse. He reached behind him to touch it, but Potter slapped his hands away. “No. Go stand in the corner. Think about what you’ve just done for yourself. Do not move until you’re sure you have forgiven yourself for loving her.”

Severus hesitated, but then went. He really hated that Potter listened to him when it came to his abject humiliation. He wanted nothing more than to throw on his robes and run to her grave so he could tell her he had finally done it – forgiven himself. But, not this year. This year he could only say he tried.

Severus does not know how much time passes. But, the sting is beginning to ebb from his backside. He feels Potter staring at him, but knows he should not turn around just yet. There is much more to this ritual, yet.

“What do you have to say for yourself, Severus,” Potter asks, his voice full of understanding and compassion. It’s enough to make Severus want to vomit. He doesn’t deserve kindness – not yet, anyway. “Look at me and tell me.”

Severus wipes tears from his cheeks and swipes the snot off of his face with the back of his hand before he allows himself to face Potter. “I forgive myself for loving your mother, Potter. I’m sorry I took her from you, and you from her. I’m sorry I was a Death Eater. I’m sorry I can’t say Voldemort’s name. I’m sorry.”

Potter held out Severus’ robe to him. After Severus put it on, Potter pulled him into an embrace. “I forgive you. Again. And, I’ll forgive you next year. But, I hope you won’t have to come.”

Severus nodded. But, he knew he would be back again next year, and the one after, and the one after until either he or Potter died. He would never forgive himself for loving her, and he would always feel guilty remembering her. Always.

  



End file.
